The Man Who Loved The LPGA Too Much Ty Votaw says he's the best commissioner the tour has ever had. Can he continue to be now that he's dating one of the players?

March 11 was a climactic day in the life of Ty Votaw, theboyish-looking LPGA commissioner. At high noon his lawyer filedend-of-the-line divorce papers at the red-brick Flagler Countycourthouse in the tiny town of Bunnell, Fla. Seven hours laterVotaw was on a speakerphone, talking to the playing members ofthe LPGA board of directors, telling them what they alreadyknew: that he and his wife, Paula, separated for more than ayear, would soon be divorced, and that he had been dating oneof their fellow players, Sophie Gustafson, for several months.¬∂ Votaw was in Daytona Beach, where the LPGA has itsheadquarters. The players were in a meeting room at a DoubleTree hotel in Tucson, across the street from Randolph Park,where last week the LPGA held its first tournament of the year.In his conference call the commissioner assured the playersthat he could separate his personal life from his professionallife and asked for their understanding. What a start to a newseason.

It's hard to imagine the commissioner of baseball--or any major sport--dating a player and keeping his job, but things are different on the LPGA tour. The six players on the 12-person LPGA board have all professed their support for Votaw to the chairwoman, Marguerite Sallee, the CEO of The Brown Schools. "The board is 100 percent behind Ty," Sallee says. The LPGA commissioner serves at the pleasure of the LPGA board, which Votaw has apparently pleased for four years. "The LPGA has a different culture than baseball," she says. "The baseball commissioner has been a dogmatic figure in the game. The commissioner of the LPGA does not act unilaterally. This is an unusual situation, but I don't think it's a problem." To which Votaw could only add, "I have an excellent board."

Dottie Pepper said last week that a player and a commissioner could have an amorous relationship without a conflict of interest arising, as long as they were both open and aboveboard about the relationship. "He's not doing what Clinton did," said Pepper, who is not a board member. "He's not denying, denying, denying." Another prominent player, Meg Mallon, said, "When it comes to matters of the heart, you can't deny yourself."

Two former LPGA commissioners, Charlie Mechem and Jim Ritts, gave votes of confidence to Votaw. Mechem, who remains a board member, first brought Votaw into the LPGA in 1991, as general counsel. "You deal with the problems as they come up, if they come up," Mechem said. "The LPGA commissioner is like the CEO of a company. The players are not his employees; they're his shareholders." Ritts, who preceded Votaw on the job, maintains a friendship with his successor. Over the winter Ritts and his wife, Lisa, had dinner in New York City with Votaw and Gustafson. Said Ritts, "Does this relationship place Ty under greater scrutiny? Absolutely. Is he the kind of person who can handle the scrutiny? Absolutely."

Privacy has long been an issue among LPGA players. Some of them are gay, yet none are publicly so, and Votaw has been deeply protective of, as he says, "the privacy rights of all my players." They're not really his players, but his meaning is clear.

There's as much infighting on the LPGA tour as there is in the Soprano family--some say such drama is part of the circuit's charm--and there are players who say they're appalled that their commissioner is dating a fellow competitor. Most are afraid to go public with their opinions, fearing reprisals. Some wonder if Gustafson will get her hotel room paid for by the LPGA when she stays with Votaw on the road. (He says no.) Some wonder how Votaw will handle disciplinary matters for Gustafson and her friends.

Sherri Turner, who has played the tour since 1984, was openly critical of the relationship. "Back in my day," she said, "there was an unwritten rule that players didn't date rules officials or any officials. Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but [this relationship] is inappropriate. I've been an LPGA member for 20 years. Week in and week out people are always putting down the LPGA. Maybe Ty is happy, but we need good, positive press."

Votaw says he is happy. (Paula Votaw, an executive at International Speedway Corp. in Daytona Beach, declined to be interviewed.) Gustafson says she's happy, too.

They're an unlikely couple, to say the least. For starters, who has ever heard of a commissioner of any sport dating a player under his watch? (Votaw has: In an interview he noted that Leonard Armato, the commissioner of the Association of Volleyball Professionals, is married to a prominent player, Holly McPeak.) There's the age gap: Gustafson is 29, Votaw is 41 and the father of two young children. There's the culture gap: Gustafson is Swedish, Votaw grew up in Ohio, the son of a carpenter. Votaw is a duffer; Gustafson has represented Europe on the Solheim Cup team three times. Gustafson is a big, strong woman, one of the longest hitters on the tour, who stands 5'8", an inch or two taller than Votaw. Counselor Votaw has a silver tongue. Gustafson has a severe stutter and prefers to conduct her interviews by email, through which she expresses herself with a simple ease.

Replying to questions, Gustafson wrote last week that Votaw "is the kindest, most understanding man I have ever met. Sounds like a cliche, but it's the absolute best to have a guy like that." Gustafson wrote that other players and her caddie have joked about how the commissioner will treat her harshly in his official capacity: "Getting twice the fine, getting harder punishment just to prove he is not favoring me. I got to tell you, I have to do no wrong now! If I do, Ty will come down hard on me just to prove he is not giving me favorable treatment. I'm worse off in this situation than I was before." Gustafson was kidding. Still, she sent a copy of her responses to the commissioner.

That is not business as usual, but their relationship has been anything but for some time. They became involved--but not romantically, Votaw says--in November 2001, in Japan, where Gustafson was competing in the Mizuno Classic, which Votaw attended. Gustafson was putting the finishing touches on a year in which she would finish 15th on the LPGA money list. In a hotel lobby on the night before the first round, Gustafson was arguing with her former caddie (and former boyfriend), Chuck Hoersch, about the size of his year-end bonus. Hoersch said last week that Votaw took over the negotiations in a way that hinted at more than an innocent relationship between the two. Votaw said he became involved only because Gustafson had asked him to and because Hoersch was "acting volatile." Hoersch said Gustafson returned to her room and that he and Votaw had a protracted and heated discussion that lasted from 12:30 a.m. until 5:30 a.m.

"At one point I said to him, 'Is this appropriate, for the LPGA commissioner to be negotiating a dispute between a caddie and his player?'" Hoersch said. "'I'll bet Golf Week and Golf World would be pretty interested in this.' And he said something like, 'I want you to know I've called my wife, and she knows everything I'm doing here.'"

"If I said something like that, it was only because he probably threatened to call my wife," Votaw says. "I didn't negotiate the terms of the bonus. I stepped in to stabilize a volatile situation." Hoersch did not work on the LPGA tour last year. He says he will not work a tour over which Votaw presides.

In January 2002 Gustafson attended, at Votaw's suggestion, a special three-week school in Roanoke, Va., to help with her stuttering. The next month Votaw initiated the divorce, moving out of his family's home in Ormond Beach, Fla. The LPGA fishbowl rivals anything you would see at a pet store, and soon the players were telling stories that had Votaw linked not only to Gustafson but to two other golfers as well. At a players' meeting last May some LPGA members voiced their concern that the commissioner's private life was interfering with his work. Gustafson's game was suffering, and in mid-July she uncharacteristically pulled out of an event in Youngstown, Ohio, and returned to Europe "to get my groove back," she wrote in an email to SI. In August an informal player survey asked this simple question: Do you think Votaw is doing a good job? Of the 105 pros polled, 67 said no, 21 said yes, and 17 had no comment.

It was not, according to Gustafson and Votaw, the summer of love. They say there was a period during which they discussed whether it was right to see each other, before moving forward with their relationship. Votaw will say only that their relationship began in the fall of 2002. He says he has never had an intimate or physical relationship with any other player. In January 2003 the new couple made the most public of acts: They attended the Super Bowl together. A brief item on this high-living sporting date ran in Golf World, and from that, many LPGA players had their first confirmation that the player and the commissioner were truly a couple. Some LPGA pros--those who consider themselves close to Votaw--were hurt that this was how they learned of the relationship.

At times during his tenure Votaw has been an impressive leader, maybe never more so than in November, when he publicly urged Augusta National to accept a woman member, a position that put him at odds with PGA Tour commissioner Tim Finchem. In public Votaw, in his shirts with French cuffs and with his neatly combed hair and carefully chosen words, always seems in complete control. But in the LPGA offices he is known to scream when things go wrong. While complaining to an SI contributor about an item in the magazine, he once said, "I'm the best f------commissioner this tour has ever had."

What he is, undeniably, is hardworking. Last Saturday, Votaw flew to Tucson to catch the final round of the Welch's/Fry's Championship. Playing a short (6,176 yards), simple public course, Wendy Doolan shot a 21-under-par 259 to win $120,000. Votaw was standing on the 18th green on Sunday afternoon, in the Arizona sunshine, when it was over. He knows he has work to do. The player he is closest to opened with a 65, but she finished in last place at four-over 284, good for $1,434. Gustafson knows she has work to do, too.

In Tucson there was a lot of talk about how a person has the right to be happy. Lost in that talk was the heartbreak of divorce. In the paperwork filed at the red-brick Florida courthouse last week was a stark and deeply sad sentence: "The marriage between the parties is irretrievably broken and should be dissolved." The commissioner signed off on that sentence, and so, reluctantly, did his wife.

COLOR PHOTO: MARTA LAVANDIER/AP (TOP) FIRST COUPLE Votaw (opposite) says he and Gustafson began their relationship last fall, after he and his wife separated.COLOR PHOTO: DARREN CARROLL [See caption above]COLOR PHOTO: HARRY CABLUCK/AP TRADITIONAL VALUES Turner is unique among LPGA members: She openly says it is inappropriate for Votaw to date a player.COLOR PHOTO: JOHN MILLER/AP (TOP) SEASON'S GREETINGS Votaw flew to Tucson in time to see the big-hitting Doolan kick off the new year with a victory.COLOR PHOTO: GARY BOGDON FINAL ACT The 15-year marriage of Paula and Ty Votaw came to an end with the filing of these papers.

"Maybe Ty is happy," said Turner, a 20-year LPGA veteran, "but what we need is good, positive press."

Gustafson calls Votaw "the kindest, most understanding man I have ever met.... It's the absolute best to have a guy like that."